


The Perfect Gift

by anonymous_moose



Series: Sizzle It Up! with Taako and Co. [3]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Brief mentions of other characters - Freeform, Gen, and magnus too, boy i wish i had been able to do something fancier with this, but i couldn't thread that needle, mostly it's about taako and angus, please enjoy, so here it is! a meandering overly emotional birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9484748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymous_moose/pseuds/anonymous_moose
Summary: A birthday arrives, and with it, an uncharacteristic emotional outburst.Angus gives something priceless. Magnus gives a bad hug. Taako gives it his best shot.





	1. The Quest

Neverwinter was a special kind of hell if you wanted to get anywhere, but especially when it rained. Magnus imagined most cities were like that, but the winding streets and intersections of one of the oldest settlements in Faerun were never meant for modern wagons, and the stormy season meant bad traffic and worse tempers.

A particularly large wagon pulled up just short of colliding with them. Magnus shoved Angus aside and slapped it on its front.

"Hey!" he shouted. "We're walking, here!"

The driver, a portly gnome with goggles and gloves, made a lewd gesture from his seat atop the wagon and shouted something indecipherable. Magnus stuck his tongue out and pushed Angus on ahead. People was too busy jockeying for position to care about little things like "pedestrians." He never would have come, but Angus had insisted on going himself, and Magnus wasn't about to let any ten-year-old brave this madness alone. Even if that ten-year-old was eleven.

"You're really sure it's around here somewhere?" Magnus asked as they stepped up onto the cobblestone sidewalk.

"Positive, sir!" Angus said, raising his voice to be heard over the din of the crowd. "I passed by it a bunch of times when I was staking out an inn near here."

"Why were you staking out an inn?"

"Oh, it's a long story, sir!" Angus said eagerly, side-stepping a pair of orcs arguing in the middle of the sidewalk. "See, I was hired by this tavern-owner to—"

"You know what, never mind." Magnus sighed and glanced around. "Just tell me if you see it."

"Aha!" Angus exclaimed, pointing down the street. He started running, and Magnus had to jog to keep up, shouting for the kid to watch his step.

It was an old building on the edge of an alley, looked like a real hole-in-the-wall. The worn sign hanging out above the sidewalk (carved from fine-grained walnut, nice) proclaimed it _Redd's Threads! Vintage Clothier! Antiques, Heirlooms, and Hand-Me-Downs!_

They stepped inside, and the door shut out most of the noise. Angus made certain to wipe off his boots on the doormat while Magnus took off the toque that Merle knitted him.

"This is it?" Magnus asked.

"Yeah!" Angus said happily. "Isn't it great?"

Floor to ceiling, the place was lined with racks of clothes. Thick wooden shelves holding loosely folded shirts and blouses to heavy racks with hangers carrying endless numbers of jackets and pants. The shelves divided the room into crude aisles, with sections defined less by type than by age. There were mannequins modeling full outfits in the corners, and disembodied wooden hands on the walls wearing gaudy costume jewelry. If there was one constant that Magnus could recognize among the endless fashions on display, it was that they were all big, loud, and garish.

"I'll be ding-dang-damned, Angus," he said. "It's perfect."

"I know!" Angus said excitedly, unwinding his scarf from his neck. "There's got to be something here he'll like!"

Magnus chuckled. For the last few weeks, Taako had been dropping the least-subtle hints imaginable that his birthday was coming up. Practically everyone in the Bureau knew it by now, and they'd been arranging the least-surprising surprise party as a result. Magnus had planned on carving Taako a cutting board or something, but when Angus told him he knew a place in Neverwinter that had the perfect gift, he'd decided to put it off. Now he was glad he had.

"I'll check shirts, you check blouses?" Magnus offered.

Angus nodded. "And we'll meet by the jewelry!"

Magnus put his hand out, palm down. Angus put his on top of it. They raised them together and shouted, "Break!" and set out on their quest.

* * *

 

In truth, Magnus hadn't expected it to be quite so easy to shop for Taako. He didn't know a damn thing about fashion, cooking, or magic, and those were the only three things he knew Taako liked. But he didn't have to know those things-he only had to know Taako. And Taako would have loved it in there. Half the inventory would leave him gasping with mocking laughter, and the other half would have him counting his coins.

There was only one other person in the shop besides him and Angus. The titular Redd, Magnus supposed, considering the bright crimson scales the dragonborn had. He had a thick neck, a barrel chest, and a surprisingly gentle voice. He'd answered some questions Magnus had about the age and nature of certain items—there was a sort of cloak-cape-poncho thing that he had his eye on, but it had a bunch of tiny holes in it Redd explained couldn't be mended.

"Some old wizard's dueling cape," the dragonborn said, scratching at a spot below his eye. "Pretty sure he lost. Tried everything to patch it up, but no dice. Must have been some spell."

Magnus had grimaced and put that one back where he found it. Maybe jewelry was a better idea.

He found Angus in a corner, going through a bin with a sign that read, _Bargain Bucket! Name Your Price!_

"Any luck yet?" Magnus asked, admiring a big crystal necklace hanging on the wall.

Angus pulled his arms from the bin and regarded the salmon-colored shirt he'd pulled out with disappointment. "Not yet," he said with a sigh. "But I know I'll find something soon! How about you, sir?"

Magnus started to reply when one of the wooden hands on the wall caught his eye. "Hey, Redd," he called out over his shoulder. "What's this one?"

The shopkeeper looked up from a book he'd been reading and laughed. "That's a doozy. Meant to look like Lady Blisk's bracelet, big ol' thing covered in dragon opals. Some con-artist tried to impersonate her a few years back. When they threw her in the clink, all her stuff got auctioned off."

"So what's it made out of?"

"Enchanted sea-glass, I think?" Redd shrugged. "Costume junk. Cost more to make than it's worth."

Magnus picked it up off the wooden hand. The light caught and shimmered across the band as he turned it in his hands. It was big, and loud, and gaudy, and fake, and very oddly elegant.

Yeah, that sounded about right.

As Magnus finished paying for the bracelet and Redd wrapped it up for him, Angus shuffled over from the corner.

"Nothing?" Magnus asked.

Angus shook his head and sighed. "I really thought I'd find the perfect thing here..."

"Hey, Ango." Magnus got down on his haunches and put a hand on Angus's shoulder. "A gift doesn't have to be perfect. It just has to be thoughtful. And you've put a lot of thought into this, right?"

Angus nodded slowly. Magnus grinned and ruffled the boy's hair a little too hard.

"So just grab something. He'll be over the moon about it, I promise."

"Was that a joke, or—"

"Just go grab a shirt and let's go home, Ango."

"Yes, sir."

Magnus stood as the kid went back into one of the aisles. Redd huffed behind him.

"Kids, right?"

"Tell me about it," Magnus said.

"So, you adopt, or...?"

Magnus turned, eyes wide. "What? Oh! No, he's not mine! We're just, like... co-workers."

Redd stared at him. Magnus stared back.

"Co-workers."

Magnus nodded enthusiastically.

"You know," Redd said, "I wish I could say that was the weirdest thing I've heard, but—"

"Sir! Sir!"

Magnus turned around and saw Angus bounding down one of the aisles with something in his hands.

"I found it! I found it!"

"Found what?"

Angus held it up.

"Holy shit."

"Oh yeah," Redd volunteered. "Someone brought that in years ago. No idea what it's about. Threw it in the bucket after a while because no one wanted the damn thing."

"How much?!" Angus shouted across the five feet separating them.

Redd shrugged and scratched at the spot below his eye again—Magnus was pretty sure it was a scar. "Bucket says name your price. But it being a gift and all... whatever, you can have it."

Angus stood stock still for a second, then sprinted around the end of the counter and hugged the very startled dragonborn. "Thank you, sir! This means so much to me!"

Redd looked down at the kid, then at Magnus, who smiled and shrugged.

"Kids, right?"

 


	2. The Reward

Taako got up on the day of his birth, announced loudly to Magnus and Merle that he was going to be out for a few hours "doing wizard stuff, no bigs," and went to go nap on the quad. Truly, he was a master manipulator.

It had been years since anyone besides Taako had actually celebrated his birthday, and for years before that he hadn't celebrated it at all. Now he had people around who seemed to give a damn about him (and who he had begun to give a damn about despite himself) and he wasn't about to let this opportunity slip by. Especially when there was a chance this would be the last birthday he'd see, depending on how much more dangerous this job got.

Besides, the last person who gave him a birthday present had later tried to kill him. Taako would much prefer that not be the last one he received.

After a couple hours dozing on the grass underneath one of the big oak trees (how did they even get them up here?) Taako figured he'd given them enough time to set up his surprise party. He ambled back down to the private Reclaimers' suite, swishing his cloak and whistling happy birthday to himself. With a quick breath to prepare himself for acting just so surprised, he opened the door.

The suite was empty. Magnus and Merle were still at the dining room table, past the porthole in the floor. Magnus was whittling, and Merle had a book. He licked one of his wooden fingers and turned the page as Taako stared.

After a moment of considering whether or not he had been too subtle (and another more frightening moment when he wondered if no one really cared) Taako smelled something in the air. Not a smell, really, but more... abstract. More arcane. He reached up, tapped a finger to his temple, and cast True Sight.

The entire Bureau appeared at once, crowding the suite from wall to wall. Streamers hung from the ceiling and walls, and balloons crowded the space above the porthole. As one, everyone shouted, "Surprise!"

Taako didn't have to act much at all, turns out.

* * *

 

There were a few exceptions to the party—Garfield had sent a BOGO coupon through the mail, Klarg had written a lovely little birthday letter in flowing cursive, and Leon sent a death threat—but most people he knew had bothered to show up and wish him well. Carey had gotten him a knife ("For cooking or stabbing, whatever!") while Killian had gotten him a pair of fabulous new boots with fur trim. The Director had abstained from gift-giving, but came as a courtesy, and to get her cut of the workplace birthday cake. Avi had gotten him a pocket flask filled with what he called "the Good Stuff," and Johann composed and played a song that wasn't a total downer for once.

Taako saved certain gifts for last. Kravitz had popped in briefly; he stayed just long enough to flirt awkwardly and hand over a small box containing a silver medallion with a raven crest. Taako had no plans to take it off anytime soon.

Merle, bless the stupid crunchy jackass, had gotten Taako a joke book. Though it was more of a joke omnibus—the thing was five hundred pages and had a glossary of terms and a bibliography. It was comprehensive in a way that was almost frightening. He would have mocked Merle for his gift (and he did, a little) but in all honesty the old dwarf was probably the one person Taako knew who could reliably make him laugh, so he'd appreciated it all the same.

Magnus and Angus came last, at the tail end of the party. They both looked extremely pleased with themselves, Angus doubly so since he had also baked the cake.

"Marble with buttercream frosting," Taako said clinically, licking frosting from his finger. "Nice."

"Thank you, sir!" Angus said, beaming proudly. "I could have tried something different, but this didn't really seem like the occasion for experimentation."

Taako shrugged and playfully nudged the boy with his elbow. "The classics exist for a reason, my dude."

Magnus handed over his gift, a wooden jewelry box with an umbrella carved into the top. Taako was in the middle of asking why it wasn't a duck when he opened it and had to stifle a gasp.

"Damn, homie," he said, lifting the spiral bracelet up towards the light. "Where'd you get something like this?"

"Trade secret," Magnus said, with a playful glance at Angus. As if Taako couldn't figure that one out. "It's costume, obviously—"

"Obviously."

"—but it reminded me of you."

Taako turned the bracelet in his hands, admiring how the massive opals caught the light. He slipped it on, and though it dangled a bit, when he shook his hand it didn't go anywhere. This was definitely made for someone with wrists like his, and startlingly similar tastes too.

"Gotta admit, Magnus," Taako said reluctantly, "this is... it's something."

Magnus reached over and clapped him too hard on the shoulder. "Happy birthday, buddy."

Taako rubbed his arm and held his tongue—his own personal gift to Magnus—then turned to the boy detective practically vibrating off the couch. "Alright, Agnes, what have you got for me?"

"The best gift I could hope to find, sir!" Angus said, picking up a wrapped shirt box and running over to hand it to Taako. "Something to thank you for teaching me, and celebrate your cooking again!"

There was little Taako could do or say to stifle his enthusiasm, so he didn't bother. He tore off the bow and opened the box, expecting a souvenir t-shirt or maybe a picture made of macaroni.

He did not expect the apron.

It was a rich, vibrant purple that the years had been kind to. The material had grown stiff and musty from disuse, but when he felt it between his fingers he could still recognize the dale cotton that they'd used for the first batch. The gold embroidery on the front was beginning to fray, but it had held together remarkably well; each delicate cursive letter was still fully legible.

_Sizzle It Up!_

_with Taako_

He still remembered designing the logo. What it felt like when he finally put it on. He'd slept in it, that first night. Hadn't taken it off the next day, either. The pride radiating off of him could have powered a sun. It felt like he'd never stop smiling, that his future was bright and certain, and nothing bad could possibly happen to him.

Here, now, Taako didn't know how to react. He barely even knew how he felt, seeing it again, holding it in his hands. He was torn between wanting to clutch it to his chest and cry, or tear it apart and burn it right then and there. It was paralyzing. Distantly, he was aware of voices; Angus, asking his opinion, maybe. He wasn't looking at him. Couldn't see beyond the thing in his hands.

There were people around him, he remembered. Staring at him. The paralysis of feeling was starting to get to him, make his heart thud harder in his chest. He was suddenly overcome with the need to be alone. So, without a word, Taako folded the apron back into its box, stood from the couch, and carried it to his bedroom. He shut the door behind him and sat down on the edge of his bed, letting his hands rest on the folded apron in his lap.

Taako had no idea what was going on in his own head. It was a kind of misery he had rarely experienced. He felt detached—more than usual, anyway. Like he was outside himself, seeing himself. Sitting on his bed, cradling a stupid piece of fabric like it was a treasured pet. What did it matter, anymore? The past was past. Dead and buried alongside forty corpses. It meant nothing to him now. Less than nothing.

So what was this, then?

Sazed had called it his armor. Taako had laughed—protects me from deadly splash-back, right?—and Sazed had said, no, no, because you're a different person when you put it on. More powerful, somehow. More confident. Taako had always preferred to think of it as a costume, like an actor would wear. But then, he'd always been drawn more to theatrics than poetry. That stuff was more Sazed's bag.

Taako realized his knuckles were white, and he had to work to unclench his hands from around the apron's straps. There were marks on his palms, and he'd broken a nail. He wondered if this is what madness felt like.

He heard a door open. His door, in his bedroom—right, that's where he was—and someone in heavy boots walked in. Taako didn't look up, but he tried to focus more on the present.

"What the hell, dude? I knocked like five times. You didn't answer."

Taako ran the pad of his thumb over the embroidery and said nothing.

"You've been in here for like twenty minutes. Everyone's gone except Angus. He's out there having a breakdown."

It occurred to Taako, then, that he wasn't sure which apron this was. They'd had so many. But there had been one that was his, and one that was Sazed's. Those had been unique.

"You have to go out there and say something to him. Even if you hate it. Just... swallow whatever it is that's bothering you and say thank you."

He turned the apron over, looked on the back, ran his fingers along the inside, searching. Taako wasn't sure why he cared whose it was, but he did, very much, and he needed to know right now.

"I mean it, Taako. I'm not leaving until you come out."

There. There it was. He lifted it a little to expose it to the light. A small sewn in tag with the letter "L" on it. The size. This wasn't his, wasn't Sazed's. This was one of the aprons they'd made to sell after the show. Just another piece of merch. Nothing special.

"Taako? Are you even listening?"

And suddenly, things crystalized. A course of action burned itself into his head, and Taako knew it was what he had to do. A little voice in the back of his head urged caution, consideration, but he ignored it. He'd had enough of this fucking paralysis, and the relief he felt at being free of it overrode everything else.

Taako looked up, and his room seemed to come into focus. Magnus was standing a little to his right, by the door, arms crossed and an uncharacteristic frown on his face. Taako stood up, threw the shirt box to the floor, folded the apron over one arm, and marched out.

The common room of the suite was strewn with after-party debris, paper cups and plates, streamers dangling from the ceiling, balloons starting to wilt and hang lower to the ground. There was no one there except Merle and Angus, sitting on the couch by the porthole. Angus was shaking, hugging his elbows and staring at the floor. Merle, looking supremely uncomfortable with his position as the only adult left in the room, was resting his hand on the boy's shoulder. They both looked up as Taako strode purposefully into the room, and Angus seemed both hopeful and terrified.

"S-Sir, I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"How's about a magic lesson, Angus?" Taako said flatly without breaking stride.

Angus froze for a moment, his mouth still open. "Uh—"

"Gotta take every opportunity to learn, my dude. Lessons are important."

Taako marched past them towards the door. He grabbed his umbrella off a coathook and turned back. Magnus had followed him from his room and now stood near the couch with Angus, who was now definitely leaning more towards terrified.

"This spell's a good one," Taako said, striding back towards them. "Got a lot of utility. Great at solving all sorts of problems."

"Sir, please—"

"Can't interrupt me now, kiddo, I'm on a roll." Taako stepped to the coffee table by the couch and gently laid out the apron. "Now, pay attention, because I can only do this once."

Merle's eyes widened and he stood up from his seat. "Hey, now, Taako—"

"Not your lesson, short round," Taako said as he rolled up his sleeves.

"You can't be serious," Magnus said, stepping away from the table.

"Or yours, dullard." He turned towards Angus, whose hands were balled up nervously beneath his chin. "Are you watching?"

Taako waited a beat, didn't get a response, and turned back to the apron. He leveled his umbrella at it.

"Taako, for god's sake—"

"I get that you're angry, kid, but really—"

"Sir, don't—!"

"Aaaaaand bazinga."

Taako jabbed the umbrella's point forward, and everyone flinched; Magnus held a hand up in front of his eyes, Merle winced and looked away, and Angus buried his face in his hands. There was a flash of light, a brief wave of force, and it was over.

With a meaningless little flourish, Taako set the umbrella aside to pick up the now much smaller apron. He held it up and examined it critically. Satisfied, Taako turned to his right, stepped forward, took a knee, and gently hung the strap over Angus's head.

"I know, it's a tad gauche to regift," Taako said mildly as he tied it and dusted off the front, "but I think this'll mean more to you than me."

It was impossible to avoid his eyes forever, and when Taako finally looked up into the boy's teary, stunned disbelief, the only thing he could think to do was tilt his head and give a crooked smile.

"Looks good on you, bubeleh."

For a long, frozen moment, no one made a sound. Then the dam broke.

Angus threw his arms around Taako and heaved ugly sobs into his neck. Taako wrapped his arms around the boy and let his chin rest on his tiny shoulder. He closed his eyes, let the emotional turmoil of the moment wash over him, and sighed.

"I'm no good at this, pumpkin," he murmured privately. "You know that."

Taako felt Angus nod his head against his shoulder in between gasping sobs.

"I'm not a great person. Not even a good one. I'm just... me." Taako hugged him tighter. "All I can do is try."

Angus squeezed tiny handfuls of Taako's shirt. The sobs were starting to subside, even if the tears persisted.

"Are you mad at me?"

For a few long moments, Taako worried at the answer. But Angus, his breath hitching in his chest, shook his head. Taako felt the last of the tension leave his chest, and he smiled into Angus's shoulder.

"Thank you."

It took a little bit for Angus to calm down, but Taako didn't rush him; he held the embrace until Angus finally started to pull away. His eyes were red, his cheeks were wet, and his glasses were fogged up, and for a moment it all looked as bad as Taako could imagine. But then Angus smiled, and everything was okay.

Taako squeezed his shoulders as he stood and turned toward the others. Merle was looking at Taako like he had lobsters crawling out of his ears, while Magnus had both his hands over his mouth and was weeping openly.

Taako shrugged. "What?"

Magnus rushed over—and Taako really should have seen that coming—and scooped Angus up in one big arm and mashed Taako against his barrel chest with the other.

"God damn it, Magnus—"

"Shut up!" Magnus shouted, voice cracking. "You earned this!"

"It's my birthday, you dullard," Taako croaked.

"I just love you guys so much!" Magnus said loudly. "Merle, get over here!"

Merle held his hands up and shook his head. "Oh, no thanks, I'm good—"

"If I suffer, you suffer, you little turd," Taako ground out from beneath Magnus's crushing bearhug. "Get over here."

With tremendous reluctance, Merle Highchurch wandered over and attempted to insert himself into the group hug. Magnus bent down and mashed him between Taako and Angus, who laughed as Merle started inventing new and exciting curses. It was, without question, the least comfortable group hug ever devised, and Taako was miserable in it.

He didn't really mind, though. No regrets. Taako had learned that lesson long ago. It was one of the most important things his aunt had ever taught him, right up there with how to make a roux and how to not give a fuck. They were the words he'd lived his entire life by, and they had never steered him wrong.

Live like you're dyin', bubeleh, because no other time matters more than now.


End file.
